


Holiday at Home

by BakuraFromSchool



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barduil - Freeform, Barduil Secret Santa, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, has to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:21:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5483108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakuraFromSchool/pseuds/BakuraFromSchool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bard and Thranduil spend time bonding with their family over the holidays.  Drabbles based on holiday themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holiday at Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ra_bbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ra_bbit/gifts).



> Written for breathingbarduil's Barduil Secret Santa project for reegreeg on Tumblr aka vongayjoy here on ao3.  
> I hope you enjoy it sweetie, and a Merry Christmas to you. May your day be very merry and very bright.

* * *

 

**Mistletoe :**

They meet at the annual Oakenshield-Baggins holiday party.  When both are there (mostly) beyond their will, the punch table looks the most inviting with the hope that one of Thorin’s nephews spiked the eggnog with something stronger.  Their hands brush while reaching for the ladle simultaneously, and calloused fingers yield to delicate ones and a glance is shared and kept.

“I’m Bard”, voice rough with one night’s reluctant over-use.

“Thranduil”, deeply rich reverberations; their hands meet again, with intention.

They’ve moved to the corner of the crowd to talk near the low lit fireplace when whoops and hollers from around the room interrupt their quiet conversation.  Guests’ arms are flailing, pointing to the ceiling where a hunk of mistletoe his hung right above their heads.  The blond gives a small smile, barely detectable, and moves to give Bard a peck on the lips.  He meets him half way. Some half-drunken cheers explode the room when they separate and Bard backs away, heat rushes his cheeks.  He excuses himself to find another drink and both are swept up into separate conversations once again.

Hours later, a mild buzz relaxes Bard’s thoughts.  So maybe they did spike the eggnog; it was probably the blond one.  He bumps into another from behind and is met with a familiar face. 

“We really have to stop meeting like this”, the smooth voice dampens Bard’s apology, and there is a flickering of pale blue eyes to the ceiling along with a smirk.  He follows the gaze right up to another sprig of mistletoe, but before Thranduil can lean in for a kiss Bard reaches up and plucks the plant right from the ceiling.  He tosses it over his shoulder before gripping the soft material of Thranduil’s turtleneck, pulling him down, lips meeting lips.

...

**Relatives:**

The first time Bard has Thranduil over to his house, he is a heap of nerves.  He spent the entire day and most of the night cleaning his small home spotless, praying that his embarrassment wouldn’t show through his actions when he opens his worn door to invite Thranduil and his young son, Legolas, inside.  Thranduil and Bard come together in greeting.

“Relax”, Bard and Thranduil whisper to each other, drawing a chuckle from each of them.  Sigrid waves to Legolas, recognizing him from their school campus, and he raises his hand back to her, offering a small smile.  Tilda smiles wildly up at Thranduil, and he offers a warm handshake to all three of Bard’s children.  Legolas stays quiet, reluctantly lifting his hand to meet Bard’s handshake, and keeps his eyes averted.  

They sit down to dinner, and make small talk as they eat: what the kids are interested in, how the meal was prepared, how lovely Bard keeps his home,

“Are you in love with Da?”, The question from Tilda rings loud in the lull of conversation.

“…Well, yes, I think I am”, Thranduil responds.  Bard takes a drink to hide the smile that forms; Legolas’ fork clatters to the table, and a soft scoff left a frown on his face.

.

They’ve sent the children to watch TV in the living room as they share the chore of dishes.

“Bard, I’m sorry for the way Legolas responded tonight. I’ll talk to him when we get home.”  Thranduil apologizes, giving Bard a soft look as he brushes their hands together beneath the soapy surface.

“May I?”, he asks, drying his hands on a kitchen towel as Thranduil nods, a soft kiss on the cheek reassures that everything will be fine after tonight.  Bard finds his children in front of the television where a Christmas special plays, but Legolas isn’t with them.  He shoots Sigrid a questioning look and she answers with one of concern, pointing to the back hallway.  He nods with a wink and follows her direction.

Bard finds Legolas in the den.  He’s looking at the mantel where Bard keeps photos of his late wife, his old archery medals, and a few handmade arrows he and his grandfather constructed.  He clears his throat and the boy freezes, not turning around.

 “Legolas...your father will never stop loving your mother.  He will never forget her.  I am not going to replace her in your life or in your father’s life…” Bard’s voice entered the room gently, and he watched as Legolas’ shoulders rose and fell with each breath he took.

 “Are these real?” Legolas asked, turning around quickly to face Bard, one of the framed gold medals held in his hands.  Bard nodded with a quirk of his head.

“And that?” he gestured to the longbow leaning in the corner, and Bard nodded again.

“Your father tells me you’re quite good as well.”  He praised, and watched as Legolas shrugged, replacing the frame gently back on the mantel.  He turned again to face the older man.

“Ada never mentioned that you do archery… could you help me? Show me your technique sometime?”

“I would be absolutely honored to, Legolas.” Bard replied with a warm smile.

Thranduil slipped back into the living room to join the kids before the other two noticed his presence outside the door.

**...**

**Remodeling:**

It’s less than a year into their meeting that Thranduil asks Bard and his family to move in with him and Legolas.  He helps the children furnish their own rooms, and buy him and Bard a bed one size bigger.  He shows Bain their archery range, Sigrid the piano, and Tilda takes a liking to the small creek that runs through the backyard.  Bard seems overwhelmed with how lavish the house is, until Thranduil assures him that he has always wished to see the rooms of him home filled with a family.

**...**

**Ice skating :**

Bard will sometimes give Thranduil the satisfaction of thinking he’s the more experienced in some activities, like ice skating, for example.  It isn’t his fault Thranduil mistakes his excitement for apprehension when he is gifted with a brand new pair of skates.

 Bard figures he should tell Thranduil exactly where it was he grew up and stop the man’s reassurances, but he would hate to destroy his exuberant confidence.  It’s the look of pure bewilderment that Thranduil gives him, as he expertly skates the length of the rink to right the blonde’s unsteadiness that finally brings Bard to amusedly tell him that he did actually spend his childhood very near to a lake.

**...**

**Tradition:**

Around Christmastime, the days get a little difficult for everyone in each their own way, except for Tilda who doesn’t remember.  As they place flowers on the gravesite, they have a few more introductions to make this year.

**...**

**Gift:**

On Christmas morning Tilda and Bain rush into their parents’ bedroom at five AM, Sigrid and Legolas follow behind closely, just as excited.

 “Merry Christmas Da; Merry Christmas Ada!”, they cheer in sync, bouncing on the bed until both of their fathers are awake.  Bard just shares a tired look with Thranduil, and Thranduil smiles back.

They’re sat around the trimmed tree, a mess of colorful wrapped boxes nestled underneath.  One by one the gifts become unwrapped until the last little box Bain finds hidden beneath the silver tree skirt.

“Da, this one’s for you.” He tosses it to Bard, and Thranduil gets up from the sofa, presumably to start with the wrapping paper cleanup while Bard examines the tiny package curiously, looking for a ‘From:’ tag.  He shrugs as he finds none and unwraps the red foil paper to reveal a black velvet box.  The box is opened to reveal a golden band lined with bright white diamonds.  Bard glances around the room for Thranduil, searching for an explanation, and finds the other right in front of him, bowed on one knee.

“Bard Bowman,” long fingers circle the trembling hands gripping the box, “will you marry me?”

“Yes,” He breathes, “Oh, yes, I will!” Thranduil collapses under the weight thrown onto him, and they kiss to the sounds of laughter and cheer from their four children.

**Author's Note:**

> This is much a modern AU, and this writing style is a bit strange. That being said, I hope you enjoyed short, sweet holiday domestic fluff as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> Merry Christmas Everyone.


End file.
